


The Perfect Help Meets

by matchstick_dolly



Series: Matches After Midnight [8]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Cuckolding, Dark, Depression, Drug Use, Episode Related, F/M, Fuckruary 2020 (Lucifer TV), Heavy Angst, Masturbation, Multi, POV Lucifer, Post-Episode: s04e05 Expire Erect, Pre-Episode: s04e06 Orgy Pants to Work, Season/Series 04, Sexual Content, let's get biblical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22820203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchstick_dolly/pseuds/matchstick_dolly
Summary: Lucifer enjoys his time with Eve, but sometimes he wishes she'd please him a little less.
Relationships: Eve/Original Character, Lucifer Morningstar/Eve
Series: Matches After Midnight [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620778
Comments: 27
Kudos: 100





	The Perfect Help Meets

**Author's Note:**

> For [Fuckruary 2020](https://freakyfebruary.tumblr.com)'s "Cuckolding" prompt.

The room smells of sex and weed, as it should, given the bender they're on.

" _Harder_ ," Eve moans, arching round hips back to meet Austin's punishing thrusts.

Really, Eve only likes it rough. It doesn't bear thinking about why.

Austin, with his tan skin, corded sinew, and tireless mouth, is a crowd-pleaser in every sense of the word, though he might be less so if he knew he was schtupping his great-great-ad-infinitum grandmother. He presses large hands between Eve's shoulder blades, shoving her into the mattress as he grinds into her wet and pliant body and calls her all the names she loves to be called in bed. All the names for fallen women.

In this, Lucifer and Eve understand one another. Words have power and will be spoken. Better to wear them with pride.

From a chair placed a couple of meters from the bed, Lucifer watches, trousers unbuttoned, hand wrapped around his hard cock. With difficulty, Eve turns her head, big brown eyes seeking the Devil's approval. He offers her a smile that would be wan if not for the effort he puts behind turning it up to eleven.

"Do you like seeing him fill me up?" Eve asks in disjointed gasps between the slapping of skin.

"Yes," Lucifer says, pumping himself in time with Austin's driving hips. 

And it's true— _it's all true_ —because Lucifer loves fucking. It's a wonderful distraction—the best, arguably, when your metabolism is too turbocharged for hard drugs to be anything more than a passing fancy. But lately, even sex is tainted, at least a little. Again and again, he finds himself reaching for something that will make him feel all the things he once worked so hard _not_ to feel. And so he fucks Eve, and she fucks him, and they become the saddles for countless riders who pass through Lux. It's an amazing high, but not the high it once was.

He watches Eve's thighs quiver with her mounting pleasure, and he groans when Austin shifts, giving him a better view of wet lips gripping and then spreading with acceptance. The first woman with a soul has always been a hot little number, from head to toe, to cunt.

In this, they understand one another, too.

Desire is Lucifer's domain. He susses out dirty little secrets to tease, please, and torture. Eve plays a similar game, though what she has is less gift, more curse and skills honed over millennia. 

She's about to come. He can feel it, even though he's not the one inside her, and damned if it doesn't call to his own lust. She squeezes her eyes shut, and her pretty, fuckable mouth opens wide in a song of songs. Austin chases after her hips as they dive, seeking pressure on the epicenter of her desire. And that's the thing about Eve. She never fakes her pleasure because she was made to say "yes" and "more, please."

It's been refreshing to connect with someone else for whom the word "yes" comes easily. Yes, Chinese food. Yes, oral on the balcony. Yes, let's stay up all night and sleep all day. Yes, a threesome, a foursome, an orgy. If Eve has more or deeper desires—and all humans do—he doesn't dig at them. After all, they hardly matter. He already knows her answer, regardless of her own desires: yes, yes, yes. _More_.

It makes him uncomfortable sometimes, when he slides between her legs and looks into the doe eyes a prat's rib gave her. Sometimes, he wishes she were a little less accommodating. That she'd roll her eyes and tell him no and push back on every damn thing he does. But instead she whispers yes, and so does he.

"Yes," she cries, and there it is, the fall summed up by a single word.

Desire washes over him, as it always does, and Lucifer cries with her, his soul plagued by eyes as blue as the Pacific.

Later, he counts his ribs.


End file.
